Burying The Seeds
Preaching
Pulpit Science Fiction
She sat on the ground and watched the grass grow. The long green stalks were not good to eat. The grains at the top were food. They could be eaten when they turned brown. It took a long time for the grains to grow. She knew this because she had been with the other women for many days. They gathered grain and fruit and roots that could be eaten. It was hard work. There was never enough. There were only a few places where the right kinds of grass grew. Sometimes animals or birds came and ate the grain before it was ripe.
The men were farther away from camp. They were hunting. That was hard work, too. They snuck up on an animal to kill it with a spear or a stone. Often they brought back nothing. Then all the tribe had to eat was a little grain that had been saved. Soon, they might have to move on. They had to find a place with animals and grass with grains they could eat. They would do that if they could live through the winter.
In winter they were afraid. People died then. There was never enough to eat. They wrapped themselves in animal skins and sat around fires. But they were cold and hungry in winter. Their only food then was grain they had saved. It would keep through the winter, even when the grass had died and turned brown.
She had wondered where the grass went in the winter. What happened to the flowers and the other plants? The earth had died. Then after many cold days grass would grow in the fields again. Leaves would come on the trees and the animals returned. None of the other people seemed to think about those things. Where did the grass go in the winter when it died? How did it come back?
It was not only the grass that died in the winter. People died. Her son had died. She could not do anything. His head became hot and he coughed and cried, and became still. It had been hard to bury him in the cold ground. She had seen many of the people die, but the death of the boy scared her. It made her sad. That was when she began to wonder about the grass, and the way the earth died.
Now it was early in the morning. The other women were working. They were gathering food where they could find it. She stayed near the camp, watching her special plants. The other women knew not to touch them after she spoke loudly to them about it. They left her plants alone. But they thought that she was foolish. What foolish things she talked about! But she did not care what they thought. She had seen something that they had not seen.
It had been more than a year ago. She was coming back to camp after a day of gathering. She had found a lot of grain. Her stone jar was almost full. When she was almost to the camp, she tripped over a root. She fell, and the grain spilled out of her jar. She tried to gather it up, but much was lost. It was buried in the dirt. She was angry, but she could not do anything. She brought what she had and forgot about her fall. But in the spring she remembered.
One day, the winter was past and the grass began to grow again. She walked past the place where she had spilled the grain. Near the root that had tripped her there were many blades of young grass. Women never knew where the grass would grow. But this was where she had spilled the grain. She thought about that for a long time. Maybe the grass grew because she spilled the grain.
She did not tell anyone else. She watched the new grass grow during the summer. She went with the other women to gather grain and fruit. But she always watched this special place. She scared the birds away. When the grains were brown, she gathered them all. She gathered much more than she had spilled. She did not take it all to eat, or save for winter. She carried some of the grain to another place and dropped it on the ground. She covered it with dirt. She did not really know why she did that.
During the winter she was often sorry that she had put grain in the ground. She could have eaten it during the cold days when she was hungry. The men could find no animals and the little children were crying for food. She thought of the brown bits of grain lying in the dirt, cold and hard. She had been foolish. The grain was dead now. It was like her son.
But they lived through the winter. Spring came. It was warm again, and the plants began to grow. She went to see where she had buried the grain. There were many more little green blades coming out of the ground.
Now the grain was ripe, and winter was coming again. One evening, as they sat around the fire, there was talk of moving the camp. "We cannot find animals," the men said. "We must find a place where grain is growing," the other women said. Then she spoke.
"I know where the grain goes in the winter," she said.
"Do not be foolish," said the other women. "We must find the grain. No one knows where it will grow."
"I know," she said. "The pieces of grain fall into the ground and die in the winter. But in the spring they are alive and grow. They make more grain."
The men laughed. The women said, "That is foolish. Why would you think something like that?"
"Because I have seen it," she said. It was hard to find the words for the new things which she thought. She told them about spilling the grain, and about the new grain she found in the spring. "I buried some grain in the ground and it grew," she said. "We will eat it this winter. And I buried more. It will grow next year."
"You buried food in the ground?" they said. "You threw it away. You are a very foolish woman. Where is the grain? We will go and dig it up. We will need food in the winter."
"No," she said. "We will always need food. But if grain dies, it will give us more grain." They yelled at her and made threats. But she would not tell them where the grain was buried.
That winter was very hard for her. The people were angry with her. When they had little food they would not give her a share. "Go dig up your grain," they laughed. They called her "Woman who buries food in the dirt." It was a long winter. She was very lonely.
The spring came. They could find food. The rest of the people forgot about the grain buried in the ground. But she did not forget. One summer morning they sat around the fire at dawn. She said, "Do you remember the grain that I buried in the ground?" Some did not remember. But she led them out of the camp to a place on a hillside. Many stalks of grass, heavy with grain, stood in the sunshine.
The other women were very surprised. They had never seen so much grain all growing in the same place. "How did you find this?" they asked her.
"I knew it would be here," she said. "Unless the grain falls into the ground and dies, it is just a little grain. But if it dies, it makes much grain."
The other people were very happy. "Now we will not be so hungry in the winter," they said. They were laughing and smiling. But the woman who had buried the grain had become very thoughtful again. She was thinking about her son.
Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.
-- John 12:24-25
Comment
The cycle of "birth" and "death" of vegetation that is so crucial for human survival has had profound effects on religious beliefs. The deities supposedly responsible for the growth of crops are highly honored, and in some religions there is the figure of a dying god whose rebirth is connected with the earth seeming to come to life again in the spring. The biblical writers had to resist such symbols of the fertility cults of their neighbors, and we find little use of them to express belief in the one God of Israel. It is YHWH, not Ba`al, who provides grain and wine and oil (Hosea 2:8), but YHWH is not a conventional fertility god.
Just because of this, the image of the dying and resurrected seed in John 12:24-25 (part of the Gospel Reading for the Fifth Sunday In Lent in Year B and Tuesday of Holy Week, as well as for Holy Cross Day in the Lutheran Book of Worship lectionary) is remarkable. Belief in the resurrection is based on that of Jesus, but Jesus himself is never pictured as (to recall C. S. Lewis' term) a Corn-King in the New Testament. In fact, as Lewis points out, in the one place where we might expect such an idea to emerge, when Jesus takes bread and says, "This is my body," there is no hint of it. "It is almost," Lewis comments, "as if He didn't realize what He had said." (C. S. Lewis, Miracles [New York: Macmillan, 1947], pp. 116-119.)
Agriculture, in the sense of planting and harvesting of plants for food rather than simply collecting edible fruits, nuts, and roots, has been part of human culture for thousands of years.
What we know of the division of labor in hunter-gatherer societies that have survived to the present day suggests that women, engaged primarily in finding vegetation for food while males would have been engaged primarily in hunting, may have been the inventors of agriculture. I have made use of this possibility in the present story sermon. In order to give it something of a primitive air, without (I hope) making the people in the story sound stupid, I deliberately kept the vocabulary and sentence structure quite simple throughout.
The men were farther away from camp. They were hunting. That was hard work, too. They snuck up on an animal to kill it with a spear or a stone. Often they brought back nothing. Then all the tribe had to eat was a little grain that had been saved. Soon, they might have to move on. They had to find a place with animals and grass with grains they could eat. They would do that if they could live through the winter.
In winter they were afraid. People died then. There was never enough to eat. They wrapped themselves in animal skins and sat around fires. But they were cold and hungry in winter. Their only food then was grain they had saved. It would keep through the winter, even when the grass had died and turned brown.
She had wondered where the grass went in the winter. What happened to the flowers and the other plants? The earth had died. Then after many cold days grass would grow in the fields again. Leaves would come on the trees and the animals returned. None of the other people seemed to think about those things. Where did the grass go in the winter when it died? How did it come back?
It was not only the grass that died in the winter. People died. Her son had died. She could not do anything. His head became hot and he coughed and cried, and became still. It had been hard to bury him in the cold ground. She had seen many of the people die, but the death of the boy scared her. It made her sad. That was when she began to wonder about the grass, and the way the earth died.
Now it was early in the morning. The other women were working. They were gathering food where they could find it. She stayed near the camp, watching her special plants. The other women knew not to touch them after she spoke loudly to them about it. They left her plants alone. But they thought that she was foolish. What foolish things she talked about! But she did not care what they thought. She had seen something that they had not seen.
It had been more than a year ago. She was coming back to camp after a day of gathering. She had found a lot of grain. Her stone jar was almost full. When she was almost to the camp, she tripped over a root. She fell, and the grain spilled out of her jar. She tried to gather it up, but much was lost. It was buried in the dirt. She was angry, but she could not do anything. She brought what she had and forgot about her fall. But in the spring she remembered.
One day, the winter was past and the grass began to grow again. She walked past the place where she had spilled the grain. Near the root that had tripped her there were many blades of young grass. Women never knew where the grass would grow. But this was where she had spilled the grain. She thought about that for a long time. Maybe the grass grew because she spilled the grain.
She did not tell anyone else. She watched the new grass grow during the summer. She went with the other women to gather grain and fruit. But she always watched this special place. She scared the birds away. When the grains were brown, she gathered them all. She gathered much more than she had spilled. She did not take it all to eat, or save for winter. She carried some of the grain to another place and dropped it on the ground. She covered it with dirt. She did not really know why she did that.
During the winter she was often sorry that she had put grain in the ground. She could have eaten it during the cold days when she was hungry. The men could find no animals and the little children were crying for food. She thought of the brown bits of grain lying in the dirt, cold and hard. She had been foolish. The grain was dead now. It was like her son.
But they lived through the winter. Spring came. It was warm again, and the plants began to grow. She went to see where she had buried the grain. There were many more little green blades coming out of the ground.
Now the grain was ripe, and winter was coming again. One evening, as they sat around the fire, there was talk of moving the camp. "We cannot find animals," the men said. "We must find a place where grain is growing," the other women said. Then she spoke.
"I know where the grain goes in the winter," she said.
"Do not be foolish," said the other women. "We must find the grain. No one knows where it will grow."
"I know," she said. "The pieces of grain fall into the ground and die in the winter. But in the spring they are alive and grow. They make more grain."
The men laughed. The women said, "That is foolish. Why would you think something like that?"
"Because I have seen it," she said. It was hard to find the words for the new things which she thought. She told them about spilling the grain, and about the new grain she found in the spring. "I buried some grain in the ground and it grew," she said. "We will eat it this winter. And I buried more. It will grow next year."
"You buried food in the ground?" they said. "You threw it away. You are a very foolish woman. Where is the grain? We will go and dig it up. We will need food in the winter."
"No," she said. "We will always need food. But if grain dies, it will give us more grain." They yelled at her and made threats. But she would not tell them where the grain was buried.
That winter was very hard for her. The people were angry with her. When they had little food they would not give her a share. "Go dig up your grain," they laughed. They called her "Woman who buries food in the dirt." It was a long winter. She was very lonely.
The spring came. They could find food. The rest of the people forgot about the grain buried in the ground. But she did not forget. One summer morning they sat around the fire at dawn. She said, "Do you remember the grain that I buried in the ground?" Some did not remember. But she led them out of the camp to a place on a hillside. Many stalks of grass, heavy with grain, stood in the sunshine.
The other women were very surprised. They had never seen so much grain all growing in the same place. "How did you find this?" they asked her.
"I knew it would be here," she said. "Unless the grain falls into the ground and dies, it is just a little grain. But if it dies, it makes much grain."
The other people were very happy. "Now we will not be so hungry in the winter," they said. They were laughing and smiling. But the woman who had buried the grain had become very thoughtful again. She was thinking about her son.
Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.
-- John 12:24-25
Comment
The cycle of "birth" and "death" of vegetation that is so crucial for human survival has had profound effects on religious beliefs. The deities supposedly responsible for the growth of crops are highly honored, and in some religions there is the figure of a dying god whose rebirth is connected with the earth seeming to come to life again in the spring. The biblical writers had to resist such symbols of the fertility cults of their neighbors, and we find little use of them to express belief in the one God of Israel. It is YHWH, not Ba`al, who provides grain and wine and oil (Hosea 2:8), but YHWH is not a conventional fertility god.
Just because of this, the image of the dying and resurrected seed in John 12:24-25 (part of the Gospel Reading for the Fifth Sunday In Lent in Year B and Tuesday of Holy Week, as well as for Holy Cross Day in the Lutheran Book of Worship lectionary) is remarkable. Belief in the resurrection is based on that of Jesus, but Jesus himself is never pictured as (to recall C. S. Lewis' term) a Corn-King in the New Testament. In fact, as Lewis points out, in the one place where we might expect such an idea to emerge, when Jesus takes bread and says, "This is my body," there is no hint of it. "It is almost," Lewis comments, "as if He didn't realize what He had said." (C. S. Lewis, Miracles [New York: Macmillan, 1947], pp. 116-119.)
Agriculture, in the sense of planting and harvesting of plants for food rather than simply collecting edible fruits, nuts, and roots, has been part of human culture for thousands of years.
What we know of the division of labor in hunter-gatherer societies that have survived to the present day suggests that women, engaged primarily in finding vegetation for food while males would have been engaged primarily in hunting, may have been the inventors of agriculture. I have made use of this possibility in the present story sermon. In order to give it something of a primitive air, without (I hope) making the people in the story sound stupid, I deliberately kept the vocabulary and sentence structure quite simple throughout.
